


Anytime

by GizliBiraz



Category: Leverage
Genre: Acceptance, Angst, Confusion, Developing Relationship, Eliot's Masterpiece Popcorn, F/M, First Time, M/M, Misconceptions clarified, Multi, OT3, Pansexual, Parker Being Parker, Post-Series, Shower Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, coolest shower ever, no really I want this shower myself, the truth comes out, wouldn't much mind the company either
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-11-30 07:30:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11458917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GizliBiraz/pseuds/GizliBiraz
Summary: When the universe keeps sending you signals, why keep trying to fight it?  Eliot has finally admitted to himself that he's in love with his partners, but he has no plans to do anything about that until he finds himself at their door, not even sure how he got there.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know I'm late to the Leverage OT3, but I only discovered the series a couple of weeks ago. I binge-watched the whole thing, then found other fics about these three, and they will not let me go. I had to try to write something for them. I hope I do them justice...

Parker is surprised to see him when she opens the door. “I was just – I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he noticed her bleary eyes and disheveled hair, the light from the hallway behind her turning the blonde to a halo.

“Huh?” She seems out of sorts, and her tiny tank top and flouncy shorts barely leaving anything to the imagination—not that he was imaging anything. Nope. Uh-uh. “Oh, uh, no. Come in,” she says and swings the door wider, still half-hidden behind the oak. He pretends not to notice as she gives him the up-and-down when he passes her. She pushes the door closed behind him and turns to lean against it, once again giving him an appraising sweep of her eyes. That’s when he notices the slight flush in her cheeks, and wonders again if he interrupted something. “You look really hot.”

He’s not sure what to do with that, and rakes his hand through his hair, almost sheepishly—not that he would ever be so cutesy, though, right? “Oh, I was out at the barn. Had to check on the horses.” She scrunches up her nose, and he chuckles.

“None of them tried to kill you?” She narrows her eyes, seeming a bit more alert. Maybe he didn’t interrupt anything that he wasn’t trying to picture at all in any way. Maybe he just woke her up... He gives her one of his brilliant grins—not at all the flirty kind—and shakes his head. “Good.” She brushes past him, a little closer than she has to, and heads for the kitchen, “I’ll get you some water so you can cool down.”

It takes him a second to register what she’s said. Oh. Oh. That’s what she’d meant when she said he was hot. Nope, that didn’t sting his ego at all. He turns to follow her, and comes up behind her at the fridge. She turns, water in hand, and almost runs into him. She snickers and offers the water with one hand while smacking playfully at his chest with the other. She shuts the fridge behind her and leans against it, and nope, he does not notice that her nipples are hard beneath that tiny tank top. He doesn’t see that at all. He doesn’t know what to say or where to put his hands, so he takes his time opening the water and taking a long drink. “Mmm-hmm,” Parker whispers, “so hot.”

Eliot doesn’t know what to do with that. His mind is turning rapidly to mush as she stands there, staring at him, still evaluating him through every movement. “Where’s, ah, where’s Hardison?” There were so many other things he wanted to say, but that was the safe one, the one that reminded both of them that he was not her boyfriend.

Parker turns her sunbeam smile on him and reminds him what he already knew, “He’s at that E3 conference thingie, silly. He’s only been talking about it for months! All that geek stuff he loves...”

“Right.” Eliot suddenly rethinks his decision to stop by, realizing how contrived it must seem. But then again, Parker doesn’t really think that way, does she? She shifts her weight slightly to her other foot, and in the quiet of the house, he can hear the silky fabric as it slides against itself there in the crux of her thighs. He is so losing this battle, but he’s too stubborn to retreat.

“Are you okay?” she has a smile in her voice. She stands up and away from the fridge, and in true Parker fashion, skips all the innuendo. “Do you want to have sex with me?”

“What? No – ” Eliot stammers, and realizing he doesn’t want to lie to her, doesn’t want her to think she’s anything less than everything he wants, quickly amends his no. “I mean, it wouldn’t be – Hardi – I mean, you’re gorgeous, Parker, and any guy in his right mind would want to, but Hardison’s my best friend...” He stops his tirade of words to take a breath. “Why would you...?” 

She smiles again, the smile she gives him when he’s being supremely stupid. “Sophie showed me what to watch for in a mark,” she says matter-of-factly. “Not that you’re a mark, but when someone’s pupils dilate and they can’t make good eye contact and they start to breathe differently, then they like you. You were doing all those things. When I moved my hips like she told me, you followed that and your breath caught. So, you want me.” Her analysis is utterly guileless, but not quite clinical. “You want to have sex with me, don’t you?”

Eliot doesn’t know how to answer. He doesn’t want to betray Hardison, and he doesn’t want to hurt Parker. After a few quick calculations, remembering how much time he spends with both of them, and knowing that Parker can always, always tell when he’s lying. He drops his eyes and speaks quietly and earnestly. “Yeah. Yeah, Parker, I do.”

Before he knows what’s happening, she steps up next to him and puts her arms around his neck. She stoops, bringing her face into his down-turned field of vision, moving toward his lips. He snaps to attention and gently but firmly pushes her away. “Woah, there, darlin’. Just ’cause I wanna do a thing doesn’t mean I should. It ain’t right. You ain’t mine.”

He looks up at her, worried that he’s hurt her feelings, but she doesn’t look hurt, exactly. Instead, she seems confused. “But I am,” she says, the furrows in her brows deepening. “I am yours.”

“No, you’re not,” Eliot insists. “You’re with Alec.”

Again, that bright smile spreads across her face, and she replies with what she clearly thinks will be the answer to everything, “Eliot! Don’t be an idiot! Alec is yours, too.” Now he’s the one with the confusion spreading across his face. She sighs as if she’s addressing a kindergartener. “Yes, I am with Alec, and I am his. But I am yours, too. And so is he. Alec is yours. And you, well, you belong to me, and you belong to him. Simple. See?”

Eliot doesn’t see. “Yeah, Parker, we’re a team. I get that. The three of us against the world, but,” he loses his clarity and isn’t sure how to make her understand the distinction, “but you love Hardison, right? You don’t love me.”

“Of course I do! So does Alec!” And there it is, the hurt creeping into her face, and Eliot’s heart suddenly feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. “Don’t you love us, Eliot?”

Again, he considers lying to save face, to make it clear, but in the end, he knows he can’t get away with it. “Yeah, I do, Parker. I lo— I love you.” He takes a breath, before uttering something he’s never said aloud before, “I love Alec. I love both of you.” It hangs heavy in the air in front of him, but Parker seems oblivious.

She throws her arms around him again, smiling brightly and brooking no arguments as her lips meet his. The kiss is sweet and gentle and sears into his soul. When she pulls back and smiles up at him, his eyes are not welling up, and no, hell no, that is not a tear making a run for it down his cheek. Eliot Spencer is many things, but a crier ain’t one of ’em!

Parker seems worried, “Did I do it wrong?”

“No. No, darlin’, that was just right,” he says, unable to hide the sadness in his voice.

She sweeps the tear away with her thumb and forces him to look her in the eye. “Then why are you crying?”

“Wha— I’m not...” Eliot begins defensively before he realizes he doesn’t have a leg to stand on; she just wiped the tear away. “It ain’t right, Parker. I can’t...” He just can’t find the words to make her understand. “I ain’t your boyfriend. Alec is. I ain’t gonna help you cheat on him, no matter how bad I want” he gestures to the air between the two of them, “this. I can’t risk everything we got good between us—all three of us—because I’m thinkin’ with my little head.”

Parker grins at the “little head” comment, but she abandons that for something else he said, “But you can be my boyfriend. That’s how Alec became my boyfriend. We liked each other, we hung out a lot, we did nice things for each other, and then we started kissing, and it was nice. And then he was my boyfriend.” She sees the struggle still in Eliot’s eyes, so she continues, motioning her hand back and forth between them as she insists, “we like each other, we hang out a lot, we do nice things for each other, and that kiss was really nice. So, now, you can be my boyfriend.”

“The world don’t work that way, Parker.”

“What do you mean?”

“You can’t have two boyfriends!”

“Why not?” She truly seems confused, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to have as many boyfriends as you want.

“Well, for one thing, usually, the first one don’t take too kindly to having a second one.”

“But you said you love Alec, too.” Eliot sighs, but she continues, “you two like each other and hang out a lot and do nice things for each other, and I know you want to kiss. You can be his boyfriend, too.”

“Damnit, Parker!” Eliot’s frustration gets the better of him. “Hardison does not want to kiss me!”

“Sure, he does. And you didn’t say you don’t want to kiss him,” she grins.

“No, Parker, he doesn’t. He’s a guy, and he’s got a great girl, and he’s straight.”

“How do you know that? Have you ever asked him to kiss you?”

Eliot shakes his head and drags a hand through his hair. “Of course not, Parker, that just ain’t something you come out and ask a guy.”

“Why not? He’d say yes. He likes you, Eliot. And he’s not straight. He’s very bendy, especially in bed. But also, he’s ... pansexual.” Parker is proud she’s remembered the word, mostly because she doesn’t really like labels.

Eliot isn’t sure what to do with this information—he’s never really been into labels, either, and he isn't sure what that one really means—but he can see that she’s not going to give up. “Look, Parker, it just wouldn’t be right. For us to— to do something when he’s not around to say no or give us the go-ahead. Think about if...” he racks his brain for an analogy that she will understand, but is interrupted by her phone ringing. She produces it from parts unknown, and she answers with a tumult of words when she sees Hardison on the caller ID.

“Eliot’s here!” she starts, without even so much as a hello, and Eliot has the decency to step back a bit as if Hardison can see just how close Eliot is standing to his girl. “He looks really hot today because he was at the stables, and his hair’s a little messy and he smells like outside, and he’s got the bandanna, and he was looking at me all funny, but he won’t have sex with me, and he barely let me kiss him, and he says you don’t really want to kiss him.” And she stops. All those words, and she just stops, having said all the parts important to her in a rush.

Eliot is actually blushing and stammering, reaching a hand to the bandana on his head and wondering if that has some significance he doesn’t understand, and then he realizes he can hear Hardison’s deep laugh through the phone from across the not-quite-big-enough-still space between him and Parker. “Put me on speaker, girl,” he hears. Parker hits a button on the phone and tells him to go. “Eliot, my man—what’s up?”

“Uh, nothin’, man,” Eliot sputters, “and I wasn’t lookin’ at her all funny...”

Hardison laughs, a deep, throaty, genuine sound that feels just a little like home, and it shuts Eliot right up. “Well, I never thought I’d be doing this on the phone from a million miles away, but, yeah, she’s, uh... well, she knows what she wants, that’s for sure. It’s okay, man. It’s good.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Eliot doesn’t like being confused and he likes it even less when he feels like they’re working together against him, behind his back, conning him.

“It means that we talked about it. We talked and talked and talked about it. And we don’t know much, but we know what’s our truth. And our truth is that you belong with us. And I wanted to be there, to talk it out with you—with both of you, but ain’t it just like Parker to do things in her own time?” Hardison takes a deep breath, realizing that he probably isn’t making much sense. “Look, man, you ain’t gotta do anything you don’t wanna do, but we ... we want you.”

Eliot tenses. It’s not like he’s never had a threesome, but with these two, it’s different. He has never felt this way before, never actually wanted anyone one this badly, much less two of them at once. He doesn’t want to agree to this and ruin everything. How can he make them understand that? He doesn’t want to see hurt and rejection in Parker’s eyes. He’s weighing words, testing them in his mind, trying to find the right balance, trying to find a way to politely say no to something he wants with every fiber of his being to say yes to.

He must have been silent too long, because Hardison’s voice comes across the speaker again, “What’s he doin’, mama? Did he run?”

“No,” Parker replies, “but he looks funny. He keeps making faces like he’s having an argument, but he’s not saying anything.”

“Okay, put the phone on the counter, for me, babe.” She does. “Now, go over there and hug him. Nothin’ else, just hug him. Hold that man as tight and with as much love as he deserves. Don’t you dare let him go.”

“I won’t,” she says as she does what he asked. She looks up into Eliot’s blue eyes, seeing the storm behind them, “not even on my dying day.”

“I’ll be home in three hours,” Hardison says quietly. “I love you. Both of you.” He hangs up the phone, and Eliot just stands there, Parker’s arms wrapped around him, her stare breaking everything inside of him that holds him back, and holding the pieces together so they can heal into something better, something stronger, something surrounded by love.

—————  
After about ten minutes, Eliot realizes that Parker intends to stand there holding onto him until Hardison shows up. “Hey,” he says gently, pulling back from her just a little, “I think you can let go now.”

“Nuh-uh. Never let go,” she mumbles and buries her head in his chest. She likes the way his whole chest rumbles when he laughs.

“How ’bout we watch a movie while we wait?” he says hopefully. “I’ll make popcorn... even drizzle some chocolate and caram—” he feels the rush of cool air against his chest as she bolts for the couch, leaving him smiling and grabbing a pan in the kitchen.

“I pick the movie!” she hollers from the couch across the open space. He laughs and nods, starting to pour some olive oil in the pan. He melts some chocolate in a double boiler next to that and gets the sugar, cream, and vanilla out to make a caramel sauce. He can see her flipping through the files on Hardison’s movie cloud, almost settling on something, then rejecting it, then repeating the process again and again. She seems to reject most of the heist films out of hand, knowing already that the director and the prissy actors never quite get it right—it annoys her. She pauses at The Horse Whisperer, looks over her shoulder at Eliot, then decides that horses are still evil and moves on. About the time he finishes the masterpiece that is Eliot’s popcorn, she seems to have settled on Mr. & Mrs. Smith. He settles down on one end of the couch, and Parker presses one button on Hardison’s remote control thingie and all the lights go out while shutters roll down over the windows, leaving them in pitch black.

Eliot takes a deep breath and swallows as Parker snuggles up against his side, and before he can stop himself, his arm falls from the back of the couch to around her shoulders. He turns his head toward hers and breathes in the clean scents of tangerine and honey from her shampoo. “Start the movie,” his voice is lower than normal, halting. Parker presses a button, and the room swells with music as the Regency logo comes up on the screen. He takes a deep breath and tries to lose himself in the narrative.

Parker is not her usual chatty self. She’s not critiquing them at all, and only once does she ask Eliot if a certain fighting move is actually possible. She, too, seems to be staring at the screen, relaxed into his side, munching his incredible popcorn, but still a little... almost... nervous. When Brad Pitt sees the broken look on Angelina Jolie’s face and swats the gun out of her hand before drawing her into a passionate kiss, Parker lets out a tiny sound, a whimper almost, and fidgets with the edge of the popcorn bowl. They watch the scene in silence, but the air grows thick and heavy between them with every kiss and touch and moan on the screen.

She looks up at him to find he’s already looking down at her. She moves the popcorn bowl, mostly empty now, onto the coffee table, pauses the movie at a particularly dark moment, leaving them once again shrouded in low inky light, the near dark highlighting every motion. She turns back toward him, rising to her knees beside him on the couch. “You want to kiss me,” it’s not a question. It’s not even an assumption, it’s a fact. “like that.” Eliot blinks rapidly, trying to bank the fire behind his eyes that she can barely make out in the dark room. “You want to slam me against a wall and take me, throw me onto the bed and have your way with me.” Again, not a question.

He gives up any pretense. He knows where the night is leading, and he’s starved for it. He wants to wait for Hardison—for a lot of reasons, but how long can he resist that willing gleam in her eyes? “Yeah,” he growls, “I do. I wanna fuck you until you scream my name and beg me to stop and not to stop all at once.” He feels the heat rise in her skin, and he doesn’t know how, but she’s on his lap now, straddling him, her hair falling in a curtain around their faces.

When their lips meet this time, there is no hesitation or confusion on either side of the equation. She seems to be just as desperate and hungry for him as he is for her, and he bites and sucks at her mouth as if he were a dying man and she were the last oxygen on the planet. Her hands on the side of his face are insistent, but soft, guiding his angle and intensity. His hands rest on her hips until they want in on the game, and he wraps one around the back of her neck, keeping her face pulled firmly to him. He gently lifts the back of her tank top, just a little, and when his palm hits the small of her back, it’s like completing a circuit. Little electric shocks of pleasure course through him, and from her _mmm, nhmmmh_ sounds, she feels it, too.

She pulls back for air on a small, gasping moan, the only other sound in the room the white noise of the air conditioning system and the speakers on pause. Eliot reaches for the bottom of her shirt just as her phone makes a tiny tink behind her on the table. She smiles and bends backward, Eliot automatically providing a counterbalance to her arch. She grabs it, and sees a message from Hardison, “Plane down. I’m comin 2 ya mama. Keep holdin on.”

She taps the screen a few times, and the spell is broken. Eliot remembers why he can’t do this, not like this, not now. He gently nudges her hip in an effort to get her off of his lap. “We have to stop.”

“What? Why?” Her phone tinks again. She looks at it briefly, then back to Eliot, waiting on his answer. He can’t help but notice that she doesn’t move off of his lap, and in fact, is staring at his stifled erection, now illuminated in the dim blue-ish glow from the phone’s screen.

“Because it ain’t right!” he growls, rolling his hips involuntarily at the hungry look in her eyes as she stares. “Hardison’s not here.”

“Alec said I can kiss you while we wait. See?” She turns her phone to his face where he can see her response: “Yay! Be safe! We r good. Eliot can kiss really good. You were right.” 

Hardison had replied with a smilie face, two kissy faces, and an ok hand emoji. Then, as they are looking at the screen, another message comes through, “Give him one from me” with lip emojis of various kinds following it. Then, “ETA – 25 mins.”

Eliot knows he is going to lose this battle, too, so he just resigns himself to it and gives in. He grins that happy-to-be-defeated grin, and tosses Parker’s phone to the other end of the couch. He wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her closer again as he slides them up her back. He pulls her face back down to his and continues exploring her mouth in earnest. She giggles when their teeth tap together, but continues kissing him, slipping her hands from his cheeks to his hair to his shoulders and back again. 

She settles more fully onto his lap, and he can feel the heat radiating from her as she begins to gently move her hips back and forth over his growing arousal. She tosses his bandanna on the floor and knots her hands into all that beautiful hair, seeming to settle on that spot, gently kneading his scalp and pulling, earning small gasps and tiny moans from the man beneath her. Parker’s own breathing, normally so controlled and small, comes now in gasps and sighs, her greedy and desperate lungs at war with her need to maintain the physical connection of their lips. She grasps at the hem of Eliot’s grey t-shirt, and begins to lift the fabric. He pulls back gently and lets her toss it to the floor before leaning in to reconnect to the fire of her mouth. Instead, she pauses, resting her forehead on his and tracing her fingertips ever-so-lightly over the discolored and too smooth skin of his scars. “I love your scars, Eliot,” she whispers, exploring in the semi-dark to find the next one.

A shiver runs up his spine at the huskiness in her voice. He isn’t ashamed of his scars, but maybe a little of what he’d done to deserve some of the older ones. “It means you’re still here,” she clarifies. “You’re still alive and you survived and I think about these scars when you go out to fight and I know you’ll come back to me. Maybe with some new ones, but they won’t kill you. You’ll come back to me—to us. Right, Eliot? You’ll always come back?”

A slight growl rises from deep within, “Yeah, darlin’. I ain’t goin’ anywhere. I’ll always come back.” He pauses for a moment before adding the vow he’d already made to Sophie, making sure she knows it’s for her, “’til my dyin’ day.”

“I love you, too,” Parker whispers before collapsing back into his arms and his lips, rolling her hips a little more, begging wordlessly for more contact, more assurance, more of anything she can get. Eliot snakes a hand beneath her tank top, but studiously keeps it on her back, running along her spine, feeling the strength and the potential energy in her taut muscles. He loses himself to the sensations: the sounds of their breathing and the feel of her slight weight pressed against him.

“Oh! Oh— that is— damn! That is, y’all are so ... hot!” Parker and Eliot jump away from each other like teenagers caught making out by their parents. They were so lost in each other that neither of them—normally both so aware of their surroundings—had heard Hardison come in or noticed the stripe of light from the hallway spilling over them in the dark room. “Oh, don’t stop on my account,” Hardison’s grin was infectious, and Parker couldn’t help but giggle. “I’m gonna just put my stuff down, lock this door, and enjoy the show.”

Parker lets out a little dissatisfied grunt, “You’re not gonna join us? But you left your whole geek kingdom thing to come back home?”

“Oh, mama, yeah. If Eliot’s down, yeah, I’m gonna join you. But I’m still gonna wanna see this for a minute first.” He begins moving around the room, locking doors, resetting alarm codes, and then muttering something about “a little mood lighting so I can see y’all” as he turns on a lamp far across the room and throws a scarf over the shade to dampen it a bit. He settles in the armchair to find them both following his movements, still sheepishly keeping a distance on the couch. He laughs, and sees both of them visibly relax a little. “Come on, now, don’t be shy.”

Parker shrugs, over that temporary feeling of being caught, and answers his demand by lifting her tank top over her head and tossing it indiscriminately across the room. There’s no denying the sparkle in Hardison’s eyes as she returns to her previous position on Eliot’s lap, or the hunger in Eliot’s as he reaches to help her settle back in. His hands take on a mind of their own as they begin to explore her porcelain skin, cupping her breasts gently before bringing his mouth down to tease at one perfect pink nipple. He licks at it while thumbing the other, then bites down without warning—not too hard, but not pulling his punches, either. She would see right through that. She moans and throws her head back, her blonde locks tumbling in an arc around her head. She locks eyes with Hardison as Eliot sucks her nipple back into his mouth, covering her areola and flicking at the bud with his tongue. His left hand worries at her other breast, while his right supports her shifting weight, allowing her to lean back and giving Hardison the show he wanted.

Eliot’s cock is throbbing now, still trapped in his jeans, still begging to get out, to get at this amazing woman. He orders it down, boy, take your time, and makes eye contact with Hardison. He’s not used to how this feels, to having a man hold his gaze and make him hotter, to really wanting everything on offer here. Before he realizes what he’s doing, he reaches toward Hardison and the taller man stands up to go to them. “Can we move this somewhere else?” he asks as he pulls Eliot up. Not surprisingly, Parker stays clinging around Eliot, hooking her ankles behind his back and her arms around his neck.

Eliot gently nudges her to hop down, the motions practiced and familiar from all the piggy-back rides she’s demanded of him. “You gotta let me get some of him, too,” he grins at her, tilting his head toward Hardison. She smiles and steps out of the way, leaving her two boys to stare at each other for a moment.

Eliot sees the obvious love and lust glowing behind Hardison’s smile as he takes in Eliot’s bare torso, taking his time to appreciate the view. The two men meet on a breath and wrap their arms around one another. Just as their lips are about to meet, Hardison pulls back, just a tiny bit, “You sure, man? Didn’t think you’d wanna... you know... you were into guys.”

Eliot smiles, “Yeah, I’m sure. And I’m not usually into guys, but you, Alec,” Hardison’s smile spreads wide at hearing his first name, “you’re not the usual guy.” Eliot leans up for the kiss he so desperately wants, and the fire explodes again in his chest when their lips touch. Eliot pulls back for a moment, amusement dancing in his eyes, “the smartest man I know—think you woulda figured it out before now.” They go back to kissing, and Parker lets out a giddy little whimper at the sight of them together. She grabs Eliot’s hand and starts leading the two of them toward the bedroom, Hardison moving backward in time with Eliot’s forward motion, never breaking contact with his mouth, trusting Parker to get them there in one piece.

In the bedroom, Parker stops their momentum, and presses up against Hardison’s back, lifting his t-shirt up and over his head. She reaches between the two men just as Eliot’s tongue teases at Hardison’s lips, and she runs her hands up his chest, then turns the palms over to run back down Eliot’s. She deftly unbuckles his belt, releases it from its loops, and tosses it aside. Then she unbuttons and unzips both men’s jeans in a matter of moments, neither of them realizing quickly enough to object—not that either of them would.

“Come to bed,” she says insistently. “Let’s have sex.” Eliot and Hardison pull apart and rest their foreheads together, chuckling at her blunt directive.

“That’s why we’re here, darlin’,” Eliot smiles. In one swift motion, he pulls her out from behind Hardison, then pushes the big man down onto the bed. Hardison just laughs and lets himself fall. “Show me how he likes it,” Eliot directs Parker.

“Okay!” she grabs for his jeans and underwear in one handful and pulls them down, getting stuck on the shoes she forgot to take care of. All three of them are laughing now, and Parker and Eliot each take one foot, pulling off first the shoe, then the sock, then working in tandem to get rid of those pesky pants. Hardison scoots back on the bed, positioning himself in dead center, and Eliot’s eyes are drawn to his mostly hard cock bouncing as he goes.

“Whew! That’s— well, that’s just impressive, is what that right there is.” Hardison beams at Eliot’s approval.

“I know, right?” Parker is proud of what has been hers, but happy to share, “isn’t it beautiful? Like it should be in a museum—so I can steal it.”

“You ain’t gotta steal it, woman, it’s yours already,” Hardison teases.

“Well, mine and Eliot’s, now. But I can share.”

Eliot loves the happy smile on Parker’s face as she sheds her little shorts (no undies, he notes) and climbs up on the bed to lie between Hardison’s legs. Eliot kneels to watch as she starts to tease at Hardison’s cock with her tongue, and unties his boots, slipping them off and kicking them aside. He strips his own remaining clothes as he stands and comes to lie down on the bed beside Hardison where he can watch Parker work and still manage to grab some handfuls and mouthfuls of that incredible dark skin.

Hardison moans as Parker takes him all the way into her mouth—does she not have a gag reflex at all?—and the sound is intoxicating. Eliot arches against Hardison’s side, his own erection pressing into Hardison’s hip, and drops his head to bite Hardison’s shoulder. Both men let out some involuntary moans, and Parker looks up at them from her vantage point, her eyelashes fluttering open and up. She pulls off of Hardison’s dick with a pop, “Kiss! It’s so pretty when you two kiss.” Eliot is happy to oblige and stretches up to reach Hardison’s waiting mouth. Parker goes back to her tongue tricks, but reaches out with her other hand to grasp Eliot’s cock and begin stroking it. Hardison joins his hand to hers around Eliot, and the two of them together begin to move their hands. Eliot gasps at the contact, biting his lower lip and shoving his head back against the bed.

Just when the friction is getting a little uncomfortable, Hardison loses his grip and starts to buck against Parker’s mouth. She knows his reactions now, knows that means he’s too close, and she knows to back off and let him simmer (a word she learned from Eliot, she realizes) for a while. She climbs over the two men, urging Eliot onto his back and arranging herself between his legs now. He lets himself be led by her, and his breath catches in his throat when her tongue darts out to tap at his slit. He uses every ounce of control he has to keep still as she pulls away and makes a show of licking her lips. Hardison rolls up onto his side, facing them, and is gently stroking himself, barely touching, just enough to keep himself right there near that edge, waiting. Parker slides her mouth down onto Eliot's head, stopping to rub her teeth, just barely, at the edges, drawing hitches and gasps from her favorite cowboy. Then, without warning, she shoves down, taking him deeply into her throat, hot and wet and tight against his sensitive skin. He groans and pushes just a little despite his best efforts not to. She lets out a satisfied hum, and he feels it prickling against his flesh inside her mouth. He grabs at the sheets, knotting them in his hands, and starts to beg, “Parker— Alec— please!”

“Please what, Eliot?” Hardison has moved closer, and his lips barely graze the hitter’s ear as he speaks.

“Fuck me! Please, one of you, I— I need to— move!” His words come out in a staccato as Parker begins to pump up and down, tracing her tongue along the ridge on the underside of his dick. “Want to— to come— so bad!”

Parker pulls off of him with an evil grin, “Not yet.” She crawls up between her boys, pushing at them to get them out of her way as she goes. They part and leave room for her, and she turns around to rest against the pile of pillows at the headboard. She stretches both legs together very straight in front of her, pointing the toes, then draws them up, bringing her knees to her chest. She lifts both legs up at the knee, lifting them up above the boys’ heads, then spreads them wide, almost a full split, bringing one leg down on each side of them as they roll back together. They are greeted with a face-full of her shimmering folds, already wet with want. “I get to get off before you do,” she says to both of them. They look at each other, back at her glistening pussy, then up at her face. Neither has to be told twice.

Eliot defers to Hardison, who places his hand above her slit and pulls at the skin, pushing her clit out just a bit. The contrast of his dark skin against her light is mesmerizing. Eliot watches as Hardison uses his other hand to slip first one, then two fingers inside his girl. “Go on,” the hacker says, “that clit ain’t gonna lick itself.”

Eliot adjusts his angle and pulls Parker’s clit into his mouth, just as he did earlier with her bottom lip. He sucks gently, noting the slow easy rhythm Hardison is taking with his fingers and trying to match it. She squirms in delight at their ministrations and begins to roll her hips, aching to find rhythm of her own. Hardison adds a third finger, and Eliot gently pinches at her nub with his teeth. Her juices are all over them both, and they both love it. Suddenly, she stills, and Eliot freezes, too, worried he’s done something wrong or hurt her. But before he can ask, she explodes, her orgasm taking over, a scream of pleasure ripping from her throat, shattering the quiet of the room. After a moment, she settles, but doesn’t move away. “Show him, Alec. I want you inside me, and I want Eliot to watch.”

As the men move into new positions, Eliot to the side to watch and Hardison crawling up the length of her body, they share their secret handshake—two slaps and a fist bump—both of them happy to be at Parker’s beck and call. She motions for Eliot to lie beside her and opens herself to Hardison. Eliot watches as Hardison’s cock slides easily into her waiting folds. He cups and caresses her breast as Hardison begins to move, slowly, carefully, in and out, building the pressure and the pleasure, giving all of himself to her with every stroke. They have eyes-open sex, locked onto each other even as Eliot joins their circle, and it’s hot as hell. She grabs a handful of Eliot’s hair and pulls him up to kiss her. The electric charge still buzzes across his lips when hers touch. When she licks at his mouth, taking her own taste greedily, he feels the pull all the way down to his groin where his restless cock is once again complaining that he needs release. Hardison reaches for him now, pulling Eliot’s chin around to get a kiss of his own.

Parker reaches again for Eliot, wrapping her small hand around his cock and stroking gently, keeping time with Hardison pumping in and out of her. It’s not long before the pace falters and the moans turn to grunts. Hardison pushes into Parker hard, burying himself inside her, once, twice, again, and he’s done, coming loud and hard just as Parker finds her own release, squeezing Eliot’s erection mercilessly, just enough to keep him from coming himself. He groans and rolls off to the side.

“Ooo, Eliot needs to come!” Parker says gleefully, pushing at Hardison, who has collapsed on her in his post-orgasmic lethargy. He rolls off to the side while she bounces up, full of energy. “Can I ride you?”

“Yeah, darlin’, of course you can.” She climbs on top of him and positions herself carefully, lowering herself slowly, savoring the feel of him sliding inside of her. He’s a little shorter than Hardison, but a little wider, and she feels full and warm as she begins to grind against him. “Y’all got me so worked up,” he says, “this aint’ gonna take long with you up there lookin’ at me like that.” His smile is mischievous and bright, connecting with her for some eyes-open sex of his own.

“Yeah,” she breathes, already falling into a steady rhythm. “Yeah, but it’s gonna be soooo good.”

He tries to take it slow, to really feel her, but that might have to wait until next time. She squeezes tight against him, and as he feels her tighten around him, she says, “you can let the hammer down.” He bucks against her, hard and fast, knowing that she may be small, but she’s tough. His fingers dig into her hips where he’s holding her tight against him. She will likely have bruises where each of his fingertips bites into her flesh, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

Hardison scoots right up next to them and plants a lazy kiss on Eliot’s shoulder, “y’all are just too damn delicious _not_ to watch.” His smile is easy and genuine, and his slow, measured breathing bears a striking contrast to the panting of Eliot and Parker.

Eliot is close now, so close, and he feels Parker start to tighten just a bit more involuntarily. He thrusts hard once, and she goes still again. Then, she shatters around him, bringing him with her as she topples over that ultimate edge. They ride out the aftershocks before she gently pulls up off of him and collapses on the bed between the two men. They each turn up on their sides to face her, joining hands on top of her stomach. The air conditioning hitting the sweat and fluids on their skin raises goose-pimples on their flesh, and Eliot disconnects for a moment to grab the comforter. He pulls it up over them and tangles himself up in their bodies to match how tangled he’s so gladly been in the rest of their lives. He listens as Parker and Hardison’s breathing slows down and deepens, and just before he drifts off himself, he whispers, “I love you guys. I really do.”

“We know,” Hardison whispers back, “we’ve known for a while.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Parker joins in. “And we love you right back. Now, go to sleep. You’re gonna make me a huge breakfast in the morning.”

“Whatever you want, darlin’. Anytime. Just say the word.”


	2. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the three wake up and face reality... Eliot with his usual thick-headedness, and Hardison with a shocking confession! *gasp*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOL, hope you enjoy it! These three will NOT let me go, and so I had to add to their story a little bit. IDK if I'll do more or not; I'm actually supposed to be working on a dissertation right now! (And I'm not getting a doctorate in OT3, so I have to let it go at some point, right?)

Eliot slowly wakes up while it’s still dark outside, reveling in the excellent dream he’s been having. He can almost actually feel Parker’s hair across his face and hear Hardison’s deep almost-snore...

Holy shit! That really happened! He does his best not to jerk too much as reality hits him. He opens his eyes and finds himself tangled in the mass of arms and legs in Hardison’s big bed. The comforter is a tiny bit scratchy against his skin, and the only sound aside from their breathing is the faint hum of the air conditioner. He can smell Parker’s shampoo and Hardison’s body wash, but only barely, the scents now covered in the very distinctive odors of sweat and sex.

The scene when he opens his eyes is almost unbearably perfect. He is lying on his left side with one arm stretched out in front of him. Parker has it situated under her neck, her hair flying loose and wild in every direction. His left hand lies gently against the back of Hardison’s neck, the hacker having turned on his left also, facing the wall, stretched out gloriously long and lanky, with his right leg thrown sort of backward over Parker’s left. She is sleeping on her back between them, a slight grin on her face as she dreams. Hardison’s right hand is also ratcheted back toward her, lying languidly on her hip. It looks like it should be a very uncomfortable position for him, but he’s sleeping soundly, so it must not be that bad. Eliot’s right hand lies on Parker’s ribcage, just below her left breast, the weight of which falls gently against the heel of Eliot’s thumb. His right leg is hooked over hers, and his toes are within tickling range of Hardison’s heel. It seems so convoluted, but it’s really so much more comfortable than he could have imagined. It just feels right. 

Eliot doesn’t remember the last time he felt this happy, this content—if he ever did. He’d give his entire world, his life, for these two, and he’s known it for quite a while. He kept a lid on it, though, not wanting to be the crowbar between them, and honestly, not sure which one he’d choose if it came to that. Not that it ever would. He would live his life in quiet certitude that they were right for each other, and he would be happy with the warmth and compersion he felt when watching them kiss. And if he ever happened to overhear them doing their thing, well, he’d just take care of himself or find a one-nighter to do it for him.

Never in his wildest dreams did he think they’d—well, okay, maybe in his dreams. Which, come to think of it, weren’t that wild. His dreams of them (and he’d had so many more than he’d care to admit out loud if you asked him), were always simple, little snippets really. A welcoming kiss on the cheek when Parker gets home and he’s in the kitchen cooking, a blasé introduction as his boyfriend (as if that’s no big deal) when meeting Hardison’s nana, the three of them sitting on a beach drinking fruity drinks with umbrellas—it’s all so... domestic. And truth be told, that’s what he wants. Eliot’s never thought about really settling down before. He came real close with Aimee, but that felt more like getting bogged down than willingly falling into a happy routine. He knows that as long as there’s Leverage, he’ll have some action and excitement, but the happy home life stuff, the watching after of those he loves, that’s what he craves.

Suddenly, he turns cold, even in the middle of this warm embrace. His rock-steady heart betrays him and actually skips a beat as the thought daggers through his brain. What if they don’t want that? What if this was a one-time thing? And now that it’s there, in his head, no matter how much he reminds himself of last night’s declarations of love and affection, no matter how hot it was to have both of them working him over, no matter how much he wants this, he can’t let himself believe it’s true.

He carefully snakes his arm out from under Parker, but she still stirs. Luckily, she remains asleep as she turns up on her side to be big spoon to Hardison’s little, and damn if that ain’t cute as all hell. Eliot pushes the adoration aside and gets up quietly, padding across the room toward the en suite bathroom. Of course Hardison has it fully decked out with a giant steamer shower that has eight—no, ten—shower heads at various angles and positions. Eliot shakes his head with an amused grin before reaching in to turn the water on.

He's surprised how much he instantly loves it, all the pressure and heat washing away stress and fear. He pushes aside his worry and doubt. What’s done is done, and all he can do now is show them how much he loves them and how he can be a part of their lives without being apart from their lives. He knows he shows it best in food, so he begins to make a mental checklist of the ingredients he needs to make them their breakfast favorites because of course he already knows what those are. He leans his face into one of the jets of water and rakes his hands through his hair. 

When he opens his eyes, a tall, dark shape is just on the other side of the glass, blurred by the condensation there and the steam in the room. Without preamble or permission, Hardison slides the door back and steps into the water with Eliot, drawing appreciative glances as he turns round in the flow. Neither of them speaks just yet, Eliot too busy staring at the long, lean lines of Hardison’s body, and Hardison not wanting to ramble and ruin the moment as he sometimes does. 

Eliot realizes he hasn’t moved since Hardison stepped in. When the taller man is facing him again, Eliot takes one step up to him, wraps a hand around the back of his neck, and pulls his face in for a fierce kiss. He may not have wanted to break the spell, but this one is oh, so much better. And the smile on Hardison’s face when they pull apart is worth all the gold in Fort Knox. “What?” Eliot growls playfully and pushes Hardison away before turning back into his own spray.

“Nothin’, man. Here,” Hardison reaches to one of the large tiles on the back wall of the shower and pushes it. It opens to reveal a small cubby with shower essentials: loofahs, razors, shampoos and ... 

“How’d you already have my brand here?” Eliot asks. He knows neither of them use the simple Old Spice scent he favors. “How long you been plannin’ on seducin’ me?” He says it with a grin, but knows that Hardison just pays attention to detail. And after all, it’s not like there’s no non-sexy scenario that might land Eliot in their shower, right?

“Man, take a look around,” Hardison sweeps his hand around the bathroom, but seems to be indicating the larger apartment. His voice drops a little when he speaks further, like it does when it’s time for rock-bottom, hard-hitting honesty. “How big is this shower? Notice how it’s got room for, maybe, I don’t know, one more person?” He pauses. Eliot can feel the light bulb screwing into his brain, but not quite enough to have come on yet. “That bed? That ain’t your standard king-size, and did you happen to notice how it doesn’t squeak or creak—even with all three of us moving around on it? You know I set up that training room for you and Parker both, and honestly, when’s the last time you saw either of us use a kitchen for anything other than grabbing something from the fridge? Why would I need this super decked-out, fully-stocked-even-with-vegetables kitchen if I don’t cook?”

Eliot is flabbergasted. “I— I don’t know what to say.”

“You ain’t gotta say nothin’, man. It was always for you. You just need to know that. Trust.” Hardison takes a step closer to him, the water still spraying hot and steady all around them. “Even if you never said yes to all of this, you’re part of our lives, our world. We made permanent space for you so you can fit in however works for you.” Hardison lifts Eliot’s chin and locks eyes with him, willing him to understand the depth of this, “but I hope like hell it’ll be like this, too.” Hardison closes the distance, the kiss solid and strong, bearing the weight of his hopes for their future and his interpretation of their past.

Unbidden, Eliot’s arms wrap around Hardison’s neck, and the hitter gives in to the kiss more than he ever has with anyone. He’s been with other men before, but there was never any emotional connection, never anything more than finding comfort in another body. Now, he wants to communicate his willingness and eagerness, but also his understanding and his commitment. It seems too much, but he knows it’s all there in his embrace, in his openness and trust. “Now,” Hardison pulls back a little, “are you gonna let us love you like you deserve?”

Eliot’s words fail him, so he just nods, and before he knows it, Hardison has dropped to his knees in front of him in the shower. A temporary look of worry ghosts over Eliot’s face, but Hardison grins, “cork floors, baby... easy on the knees.” He pushes Eliot back against the tile wall of the shower, and runs a hungry tongue up the underside of the hitter’s cock. What little bit of Eliot wasn’t hard yet responds instantly, and he draws in a sharp breath as Hardison takes his full length into his mouth. Eliot moans and lets the wall take his weight as Hardison begins to move out and back, keeping a steady pace. Hardison brings one hand up to grip next to his mouth on Eliot’s shaft, and the other to gently squeeze and tug at Eliot’s sac.

Before long, Eliot is worked up almost to that edge. “Oh, my god, Har—Alec! Where did you learn—you know what, don’t answer that. You’d have to stop to answer that.” They’ve never known Eliot to babble, but it seems he can’t stop his mouth right now. Hardison chuckles at the realization, and Eliot feels the vibrations tickle at the edges of his head. “Oh, my god, man! That’s—that’s fantastic! Don’t stop! Oh, my god, Alec, I’m gonna come!” Eliot clutches at the back of Hardison’s head, half of him wanting to push the man away, and the other half silently begging the hacker to take it all and like it. 

Lost in indecision and pleasure, Eliot climaxes roughly, thrusting against Hardison’s mouth and gasping. He feels just a bit light-headed with the release and the hot steam from the shower. Hardison slowly and methodically licks every drop from Eliot before looking up at him with a cat-who-ate-the-canary grin. Eliot reaches to hook his hand under Hardison’s chin and pulls him up to standing. Hardison pulls Eliot into his arms, and Eliot rests his head on the taller man’s chest. “How you like me now?” The words are almost a growl falling from Hardison’s mouth—almost. He’ll never master the technique the way Eliot has.

“Oh, I liked you before,” Eliot teases, “but now I might just have to keep you.”

“So, that was okay, then?” Eliot can hear a little bit of insecurity creeping into Hardison’s confidant façade. “You liked how I did it?”

“Yeah, I’d say it worked,” Eliot pulls back and looks into Hardison’s eyes, which are just a little too wide, a little too wild. “You know what you’re doin’.”

“That’s good,” Hardison says simply, “since I’ve never done that before.”

Eliot gently pushes Hardison back a half step, “What?” He is genuinely confused. “But Parker said you were” he struggles for the word.

“Pansexual.” Hardison fills in the blank. “That just means I’m attracted to the person. It doesn’t matter if it’s a man or a woman or how they identify. It’s about them. I’ve been attracted to guys, girls—probably even a few robots if I’m honest. What—don’t look at me like that.” He pauses and grins, “It doesn’t mean I ever did anything about it before now. Being attracted and doing something are two very different things, man, but you know that. You kinda wrote the book on that, I think.”

“Wow,” Eliot is taken aback, “so I kinda— I was your first?” Hardison nods sheepishly. “Wow,” Eliot says again. 

He’s running through what to say next, when Hardison interrupts his thoughts, “so, you gonna let me wash that hair, or what?”

“Huh?”

Hardison turns Eliot around and runs his hands through Eliot’s hair. Eliot hears the bottle open and smells the very distinct scent of his favorite shampoo, then leans into it when Hardison’s hands start to massage the liquid into his scalp. The lather builds and Eliot relaxes, the slight tug and motion lulling him to a peaceful contentment. After a moment, Hardison turns him back around, his height making it an easy angle to rinse the suds from Eliot’s locks. 

“Ooo, I wanna do the conditioner,” Parker says as she steps into the shower stall with them. She reaches between the two of them to grab it from the hidden shelf and gets to work before either of them can even react to her presence. Eliot has no idea why letting them groom him is so comforting, but he goes with it, and gets a face full of Parker boobs for his trouble when she reaches around his head to massage the lotiony liquid all the way through to the ends of his hair. He takes a nipple into his mouth and starts to nibble, but Parker nudges him away and playfully swats at his nose. “No, it’s time to get clean!” She giggles. “Besides, if we start down that road again, you’ll never make me breakfast, and I’m hungry, Eliot!”

He chuckles again, and relaxes into her touch. Once the conditioner is in, he moves a bit more out of the direct spray of water to let it sit and soak into his hair, and he and Hardison each grab a poufy sponge to begin lathering her up. They pay careful attention to every nook and cranny of her body—not that there are many amongst her smooth, toned lines. They tease at her nipples, but not too much, and after a few minutes, Hardison begins to wash her hair. Eliot loves that clementine and honey scent, and wonders if maybe Hardison likes to wash their hair since he has so little of his own. Eliot watches the show as he rinses the conditioner from his own hair, then steps over to her for a soapy kiss. He squishes her between them when he leans up for one from Hardison, too, then steps back into the spray for a final rinse.

“I’ll go start on breakfast,” he smiles as he steps out and grabs a towel.

As he leaves the bathroom, with calls of their favorites—which he’d already planned for—being shouted after him, he smiles. _This just might work out after all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please, PLEASE, read and review. Reviews are like Christmas, and I so very want them all the time! Thanks!


	3. Coda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are more sexy times, and Eliot applies all his best skills to his new relationship -- in one way or another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this might finally be the end of this one. It feels like a good place to stop. As always, please read and review, critiques welcome.

Eliot finds his discarded boxers in the bedroom, and stops for his t-shirt by the couch.  Cooking without clothes might look sexy in the movies, but grease splatter doesn’t heal pretty.  He heads into the kitchen and starts making a large breakfast of all their favorites, even acquiescing to pour Parker a bowl of sugary death.  After a few minutes, he hears Parker screaming in that particular “oh-Alec-just-like-that” way, and he grins to himself, muttering, “ _my_ man” under his breath.

When his partners enter the room a few minutes later, Eliot has a hard time concentrating on plating their meals, what with all that glistening skin and those tiny towels barely covering them.  They sit at the bar and _ooo_ and _aah_ over his cooking, just a little bit more than usual.  “What’s on the agenda for the day?” Eliot asks with a grin.

“I don’t know.  Whatever you wanna do,” Parker says around a mouthful of chocolate chip waffle.  “We could move your stuff into your room?” she asks.

“What?”

“What?”

Both boys gape at her.  They pause for a few seconds, then, as if on cue, begin talking at the same time, Eliot demanding to know how long they’ve had this in the works and Hardison denying any nefarious plan.

“Hey!” Parker yells as she drops her fork on her plate.  “Stop it!”  She takes a deep breath, “you were fine when Alec said he built the bed for you or made the kitchen for you.  Why are you so pissed?”

“I’m not—” Eliot takes a deep breath, “I’m not pissed, Parker.  I just—it’s just that you guys said ‘any way I wanted this.’  If I didn’t—if I wasn’t, you know, _ready_ , that there’s no pressure.  It’s one thing to have a great kitchen—there’s resale value and everybody’s gotta eat, but...”  He runs his hands through his hair, and turns toward the stove, pacing the few steps there and back.  He pinches the bridge of his nose and turns back to these two people who mean so much to him.  “You said no pressure, but now you’re asking me to move in.  To a room that you have built in here for me.  _Damnit_ , Hardison!”

“Woah, woah, wait a minute,” Hardison actually puts his hands out in front of him.  “I bought the whole damn building, Eliot.  I made sure there were rooms for each of us, then the master bedroom we could share if we want.  If _you_ want.  Me and Parker, man, we ain’t tryin’ to force you into anything.  We _want_ you here.  But we want you to have your own space, too.  I got my own room, Parker’s got her own room... and we have a room that we put a couple things in for you—if you want it.”

Parker smiles at him, “it’s okay, Eliot.  You don’t have to live here.  We can still be pretzel-y.  I was having sex with Alec for a long time before I was ready to move in.”  Her enthusiasm is infectious, and Eliot finds himself smiling in spite of his ire. 

“Look, guys, it’s just that it’s... new, alright?  Let me think about it,” Eliot relents.

“But you’ll still have sex with us?” Parker remains hopeful.

“Yeah, Parker,” Eliot laughs heartily, his eyes regaining their sparkle, “whatever you want.”

“How ’bout now?”

“Parker, give the man a break!  You’re gonna wear him out!” Alec laughs and takes his last bite of grits.  When he looks back up, he finds Eliot standing across the island with his arms crossed over his chest, his head down, and his eyes cast up, looking through his lashes.  And it’s sexy as hell.

“Let’s go,” Eliot’s gravelly voice pours into Alec’s heart like honeyed whiskey over stones.  Alec notices a slight shiver from Parker.  Eliot comes around the kitchen island, yanks both their towels off, and runs for the bedroom, taking a circuitous route through the rest of the apartment.  Parker and Hardison laugh and chase him, all three eventually collapsing on the bed together.

They spend the day with that giant bed as their base of operations, only leaving it to eat or visit the restroom.  They talk, for hours, about what each of them wants from this relationship ideally, and what they each expect realistically, and they’re all surprised at how well their visions mesh together.  No one wants to stop their work at helping others, no one expects either of the others to change who or how they are.  Each of them knows that either of the others might need some time away occasionally, and that’s okay.  They talk a lot about what love is _supposed_ to be, and agree that conventional wisdom is just plain wrong.  Love is what you make it, and normal is what works for you, so this, the three of them, being together in this way, might be too much for most people to handle or to wrap their brains around, but they know, without a doubt, that they just _work_.  They do.  And that’s all there is to it.

All the talking is interrupted here and there with the traditional bedroom fare, though these three are far from traditional.  They learn that Parker is even more bendy than they thought, and that Eliot is a biter.  While a little nibble is okay with Hardison, Parker really likes it, and she lets Eliot bite her hard, delighting in examining the marks he leaves on her ivory skin.  Hardison, just like his public demeanor, is very giving as a lover.  He is more concerned with making sure that his partners are satisfied before worrying about his own needs.  He wants to explore new things, especially with Eliot, but he wants to take it slow, too, so he can savor each memory later.

Several hours and orgasms later, they fall into a heap, and by unspoken agreement, drift off to dream land.

*   *   *   *   *   *

They sleep that night in a tangle of arms and legs, each one coming awake at different points throughout the night just long enough to listen to the other two breathing peacefully, finding rest and peace in their bedmates.  There is nothing better than that feeling that someone can find their solace and comfort in your arms, and each of the three of them get a moment or two to feel it that night.  No one startles from nightmares or even tosses and turns much; each waking is momentary, appreciative, and settling, before they fall back off into a sated sleep.

*   *   *   *   *   *

In the morning, Parker turns to the side to find an empty spot where Eliot had been.  She stretches and sits up on the side of the bed, listening to see if he’s in the bathroom, but she doesn’t hear him.  A momentary panic creeps up through her spine, but she pushes it down and gets to her feet.  Going to the door of the bedroom, she soundlessly cracks it, and she instantly knows why the Eliot-spot was cold.  She hears him quietly strumming at his guitar, pausing, strumming again, working out some words.  She creeps back to the bed and wakes Alec, drawing him to the door with her index finger over her mouth, urging his silence.

When they pull the door slightly more open, Eliot is playing what sounds like an intro to a soulful, sweet country song.  A few moments later, the lyrics come into play:

_Overflowin’_  
_That’s what my heart is_  
_When I wake up to the sight of both of you_

_Overwhelmin’_  
_That’s what the thought is_  
_That you could both love me like I love you_

_And over it_  
_That’s where my head is_  
_The trappings of a world that has no clue_

_And it’s all over_  
_All my denyin’_  
_That love was only ever made for two_

_It’s just the three of us_  
_Yeah, it’s us against the world_  
_And I’ll be here until my dyin’ day_

Eliot seems to notice a shift in the room, and the song dies out there.  When he looks up, he sees Parker first, a giant smile on her face, with a single tear rolling down her cheek.  Hardison is standing behind her, mouth slightly agape, looking as though he can’t quite catch his breath.  “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake y’all.”

As if by soundless agreement, they both walk forward and pull their hitter up and into their arms.  He barely has time to set the guitar down on the couch, but does so quickly and hugs them right back.

“You wrote a song for us,” Parker states the obvious, her voice filled with wonder and amusement.  Hardison still can’t quite speak, which is new.

“Yeah, darlin’, I did,” Eliot smiles at her.  “I woke up with some of it in my head, and it just had to come out.”

“Eliot, man, I—I don’t know what to say,” Hardison stammers.

“First time for everything, right?” Eliot teases, and Hardison’s face changes to momentary consternation.

“Nah, man, it’s just— You just amaze me, sometimes, that’s all.”

Eliot shifts a bit at the praise, but accepts it.  He does, however, realize they’re all standing there in a circle in the living room, and he’s the only one wearing any clothes—not that boxers count for much.  It makes this loving, tender moment into a silly one, charged with a slight tingle of eroticism.  He chuckles to himself, then reaches for Hardison’s chin, pulling the taller man’s face down to meet his.

As the kiss turns from sweet to desperate, Parker disentangles herself from their embrace and maneuvers to pull off Eliot’s boxers.  She leads them to the bedroom, much the way she did the first night, allowing them to stay locked together.  When they enter the bedroom, Eliot notices that it smells of sweat and sex—it’s a _very_ distinctive smell.  He smiles against Hardison’s lips, and the hacker pulls back.  “I think— yeah, I think, uh, I think I’m ready.  If you are, I mean,” Hardison looks into Eliot’s eyes.

“I’ve been ready, Alec,” there’s something visceral in it when Eliot uses his first name, something raw and needful.  “Just waitin’ on you.”

Their kiss resumes, and Eliot takes charge of the goings-on.  “I’m gonna watch, if that’s okay,” Parker says as she sits on the chair in the corner, “unless you need something.” 

“I always need you, baby,” Hardison says, “but yeah, you can watch.”

“Let’s do this,” Eliot growls, “I wanna get inside you right. Now.”  Hardison’s knees actually go weak for a moment, and he falls back on the bed.  Eliot, for all his urgent insistence, is patient.  He starts by kissing Hardison again, then trailing lazy lines of kisses down Hardison’s tendons and across his collarbone, all the while exploring the hacker’s skin with both hands, testing the span of his own hands against Hardison’s ribcage or the firmness of Hardison’s thigh against his own strong grip.  He feels the nervousness subside, and Hardison’s tense muscles soften beneath him.

He moves down Hardison’s chest, spending time playing at each nipple and his navel, constantly keeping his hands in motion.  Hardison instinctively spreads his legs, allowing room for Eliot to lie between them, and the hitter takes as much as he can of Hardison’s cock into his mouth.  He begins to work at the shaft, placing one hand below his mouth and twisting it slightly on each up and down stroke of his mouth.  Hardison moans in appreciation for the incredible feeling building up in him.

Eliot feels a light weight settle on the bed, and Parker takes his hand from Hardison’s dick.  She has apparently done her homework, and puts some lube on Eliot’s middle finger.  She adds her hand to Hardison’s swelling cock to replace Eliot’s and Eliot begins to massage gently at Hardison’s opening.

Hardison gasps, but forces himself to calm down.  This is Eliot, the man he loves, the man he trusts, made all the better because his sweet Parker is right there, too.  They are surrounding him, enveloping him in love, more than he deserves, and he wants to give himself to them in every way, mind, spirit, _and_ body.  Just as he calms, he feels Eliot push a finger inside of him.  The sensation is new and different, but not unpleasant, and he welcomes the intrusion, relishing how it makes his erection quiver just a bit.  Eliot works him just a bit before gently massaging in another finger, all the while keeping up the slow, steady blow job with Parker’s hand giving the assist.  Hardison is losing himself in all the new sensations.

Parker and Eliot continue to work him out, Parker whispering dirty things in his ear and moving her hand up and down in time with Eliot’s swollen lips around Hardison’s cock, just enough to keep him going, but not to push him closer to the edge.  As Eliot gently adds a third finger into the mix, he pulls back and sits up just a bit, his need to babble overtaking his focus.  “How’s that feelin’, baby?  You like that?  You feel full?”  Hardison is unable to really speak, and just nods at him, locking onto those fantastic sapphire eyes of his.  “Yeah?  You ready, baby?  You want me?”  Again, Hardison nods, eyes a little wild, hands grasping randomly for purchase among the sheets and pillows.  “Let me hear you, baby, tell me what you want.”  Eliot’s eyes are banked embers, hot and dangerous, and his words are barely comprehensible now, gravelly and steeped in need.

“Yes, please,” Hardison manages to gasp out, just barely.

“Please what?” Parker’s hot breath on his ear is almost too much to handle.  His voice catches in his throat on a soft moan as the warmth of her breath snakes over his skin.

“Please, Eliot, please, I want— I need you!  Please, get inside me!”  Whatever anxiety he may have had when he’d thought about how this moment would go ran squealing from Hardison’s need.  There was no question that this was what he wanted and how he wanted it.

“Okay, baby, here I come,” Eliot’s guttural sounds barely form words.  He withdraws his hands and repositions himself.  He lifts Hardison’s legs so they are bent up with knees near his chest, resting the inside of the hacker’s knees against the inside of his own elbows and planting his hands firmly next to Hardison’s hips on the mattress.  This will keep him in an easy, open position while Eliot works his way into where he wants to be.  Eliot’s aching cock aligns with Hardison’s hole, and he begins to push in slowly, and carefully.  A little more clearly, he says, “You stop me if you need to.”  He locks eyes with Hardison again, “I mean it, Alec, if it’s not right, you stop me.”

“Okay,” Hardison agrees, finally realizing that Eliot needs to hear the words, “I’ll stop you if I need to, but I want this.  I want _you_.”

“Good.”  Eliot pushes further in, going slowly, taking his time to make sure they’re both okay.  He reaches as far as he can go, and feels Hardison jump as the ridge of his head brushes against Hardison’s prostate.  The hacker lets out a strangled moan, and his eyes roll back in his head.

Eliot pulls out, easily again, just a bit, building up some friction and beginning to search for a rhythm, thrusting back in a bit more quickly this time, to his hilt.  Out again, then back in, slightly faster this time, and Hardison is nearly gone.  Parker senses how close he is, and she abandons his cock to allow him to feel more of the experience before losing himself to the orgasm threating on the horizon. 

Out again, then back in, fully in a steady rhythm now, Eliot’s arms are solid rocks framing Hardison, holding Eliot’s weight up and keeping him at just the right angle to just brush that spot with each stroke.

Out again, then back in, and Eliot’s words spill out, a stream of consciousness that betrays his usually stoic demeanor, talking of love and lust and fucking and forever in fast syllables, low and heavy and hungry.

Out again, then back in, and Eliot knows Hardison can’t hold out much longer.  For that matter, neither can he.  He knows this night will be seared into his heart and his soul for eternity, and he can’t think of a better thing to occupy that space.

Out again, then back in, a hard, almost angry thrust this time, holding there until Hardison clenches ever-so-slightly, and Eliot spills inside him, at the same time watching Hardison’s own release splash across his stomach, the white liquid standing out starkly against Hardison’s dark skin.

Both men collapse, trying to catch their breath, each with a silly grin on his face.  Parker slinks away to the restroom for a warm washcloth to wipe them up a bit, and to give them a moment to talk.  She can tell there are things to be said.

“That was incredible!” Hardison speaks softly, far away.

“Yeah?” Eliot is basking in the afterglow, all cat-who-ate-the-canary.

“Yeah,” Hardison says, “I shoulda made you do that a _long_ damn time ago.”  Hardison reaches for Eliot’s hand.

Eliot takes it, interlacing their fingers.  “I’da probably said no a long damn time ago.  I’m glad we waited until you were ready.”

“Yeah, it just felt like it was time.”

“Thank you, Alec.  Truly,” Eliot squeezes Hardison’s hand tightly for a moment before relaxing his grip again, but not letting go.

“For what?”

“For letting it be me.  For waiting for me, even though you didn’t know you were.”

“Eh, I don’t know, man.  I think I’ve kinda known I was waiting for you for about five years now,” Hardison grins.  “I’ve been attracted to some guys before, sure.  But you were something different.  You hit me by degrees.  A little more and a little more every day, and before I knew it, I was in love with you.”  The words come easily, and Hardison shares them openly, his heart firmly planted on his sleeve.  “I don’t think I ever really let myself imagine that you might love me back—that was too much to hope for.”  He paused, drew in a deep breath, and continued, “and yet, here you are.”

“Here I am,” Eliot agrees, “and I ain’t ever goin’ anywhere.”

“Good,” Parker says as she plops down on Hardison’s other side and begins to gently wash away his spilled seed.  “Coming to find you might really suck.  I bet you know how to get lost when you want to.”

“Used to be easy,” Eliot says simply, “that was before I had a home, before I had my family.  Now that I got y’all, well, I love you guys, and you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all please correct me and let me know if I have the _mechanics_ of it wrong; I've never written two boys with this much detail and intimacy (I'm a girl), so I don't know for sure if I got it right. If it's off, please forgive and let me know how so I can correct it and make it better. Thanks!

**Author's Note:**

> My first time writing a threesome, much less one based in so much love and trust as these three. Please read and review. Comments greatly appreciated.


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